Momma's Little Helper
by Slittlej
Summary: Danny's upset about his mother's decision. It won't be easy, but will he show himself to be the man his family and friends need him to be? Spoilers Pale 'la, Ma lalo o ka 'ili
1. Chapter 1

Kono, pleased that she'd been able to get some surfing in earlier this morning at her favorite secluded spot swung into 5-0's office and headed straight for the surface computer. There were some cross-matched license plate numbers she wanted to double-check before making the positive ID on the vehicle used in a jewelry heist. The last wave she'd caught, a real beaut, had set up well and had carried her the entire way to shore, was still on her mind. Lately the knee she'd blown out and had ended her pro surfing career wasn't giving her the kind of trouble it had when the mishap had occurred. Putting time in at the gym was paying off.

The surface computer her target, she strode along the length of the intra-hallway partially oblivious to what went on around herself until she happened by Danny's office. She couldn't help noticing that he was slumped behind his desk, elbows propped up upon it, his hands holding his head tightly in place. Despite the surfing-high she was on, seeing her fellow partner in fighting crime like that brought her down. Ignoring what she wanted to accomplish before Steve got in, she made a beeline for Danny's office.

So as not to startle him, she rapped softly against the open door's lintel closest to herself. "Hey there. Headache?" She noted again just how tightly his fingers were weaved into his sheeny blond hair.

Not looking up in her direction, Danny grunted, keeping his eyes plastered to the surface of his desk, which was anomalously uncluttered. Normally, ponderous paperwork congested it. Not that Danny was a blatant slacker, habitually dawdling when processing reports and other assorted desk-work concerns needed attention. It just felt more natural putting such things off until he ran out of time and Steve found it necessary to light a fire under his butt.

"Mama-drama," he groused.

Kono hid her smirking from Danny, who looked as though he was having a good stew. Drama? Ha. Like mother, like son, she thoughtfully pondered, a hint of mirth capering about her deep brown eyes.

Frankly, she was mildly surprised he was here. Mildly, because Danny's behavior was known to be erratic. She thought he was taking several days off for the sake of his mother. Clara Williams, rightfully so, would garner Danny's full attention, Kono figured. Or did she? He could have changed his mind."Who's showing Mom around?" she inquired, no hint of challenge detectable in her tone. She hadn't been formally introduced since Danny had not gotten around to bringing her to headquarters to date. He had promised he would; that remained to be seen. Danny had shown Kono and Chin pictures. They both agreed, along with Steve, Momma Williams was a looker.

Resembling one of those inflatable advertising characters being gradually blown up, Danny straightened up in painfully slow stages. The process was fatiguing to watch. Kono felt those good surfing vibes being siphoned away. "Clara likes spending time-lots of time-poolside. She spends most of the day at the Ala Moana; Gracie's her willing sidekick. She picks the kid up right after school and they lounge around the rest of the afternoon, hitting the spa first and then the pool. She'd better watch out. All that sun isn't good for her." Danny continued sounding off-the-cuff. "Mom thinks my pre-teen little monkey isn't girlie-girl enough. I don't like it." Danny balled his hands into fists and bonked either side of his head. "I love that she's here, but I'd love it better if she was here with Pop instead of divorcing him. That I don't respect. Her 'third act of her life' speech is getting really old, really fast. Her 'my time, my time' on and on and on. Like a broken record. It's all about her now. Pop's out of the picture." Mumbling, Danny recited, "'I saw the sign. It opened up my mind. Now I'm happy living without you. I've learned to... Oh, oh, oh.'"

Frowning, Kono probed, "What's that?" She chose between going to the computer, or venturing into Danny's office, ignoring her inner voice advising her to give him space. Why was he spouting lyrics of an old song?

"My mom's pathetic theme song. Her battle cry of liberation from my dad."

Knowingly, but not cocky, Kono informed, "You do know that's the hook from Ace of Base's pop hit, 'The Sign?'"

Danny shrugged, if he hadn't known before, he knew now. He'd consulted the internet to refresh his memory. The song, one of the best tunes of the nineties, had been released on October 29, 1993 in Europe. Clara hummed it, sang it sing-song, tapped it out whenever the subject of her myopic husband, Danny's 'selfish' father, came up. "It's the worst song I've ever heard!" Clara was driving him crazy drumming it into his head. Why couldn't she learn the words to Mariah Carey's, "We Belong Together?" Those were sentiments he could get behind.

"Danny," Kono stroked, standing at his side, resisting the urge to smooth down his sleek hair with the palm of her hand. Would that be too personal? Perhaps, but it thoroughly appeared as though he needed soothing. The underside of her hand hovering above the crown of his head, she pressed down lightly, completing the stroke to the nape of his neck. She felt the tightness in his neck relax. "Things will work out. One way or the other. You'll see." Some pep talk that was, sounding so generic, so 'out there.' Judging that it was completely all right, a sensitive, thoughtful gesture, she started at the top of his head again, arriving at the same place. Danny angled around, looking at her pointedly, a calmer disposition simmering in his crisp blue eyes. "She's here, and that's good. Check. Be supportive. Show her how much you're understanding her side of things. She'll appreciate that, and might be more receptive to how you feel."

"What if I don't want to?" Danny objected, but the way he'd said it implied he was willing to give her suggestion a try. Obstinance had a worsening effect, which it usually did.

He wasn't eating out of her hand, but it was something close.

Gently, her fingers at the base of his neck began massaging its nape. "You don't have to...but..." She sighed, seeing his moody facial expression unwind under her practiced hand. "An understanding, patient and good son would." Kono smiled, driving her point home. She leaned down kissing his blond tufts atop his head. Danny squirmed a bit, thoroughly surprised. He imagined she heard his heart beating out of control. She'd never done anything like this to him. Without another word, Kono turned, walking away and out of his office to begin her complex task.

Danny stared after her, thinking over what she'd advised with an open mind, for a change. He _was_ a good son. Rough around the edges, sometimes, but, overall, he loved his mother. Doting, considerate and dependable, that was he. He accepted it being a challenge, his having to prove how accommodating he was with Clara's embracing her newfound freedom even if his heart wasn't fully on board. He was no stranger to 'faking it.' Now if he could only prove to Kono that his feelings for her weren't arbitrary. He had, 'I'd make a better boyfriend for you than Adam' written all over him. The time wasn't right yet for making his feelings known. Not while she staunchly claimed that Adam was 'her man.'

"Thanks," Danny called after Kono, aware that she probably wouldn't hear.

He had all kinds of work cut out for him in the days to come.


	2. Chapter 2

Mumbling under his breath, Danny glanced over at his new home's back door with an anxious expression on his face, anticipating the arrival of his Hawaiian angel of mercy. Trying to sound cool and nonchalant, he breathed in deeply over the tempting tomatoey creation he'd painstakingly prepared. Silently complimenting himself, the chef, he then berated himself that very moment for having neglected to purchase one of the recipe's most important ingredients.

"Danno…"

His daughter, decked out in a petite waitress' cute outfit, had just emerged from the dining area. "Yes, Grace?" He'd forced patience into his tight reply.

"Grandma and Grandpa want to know…" As her voice trailed, her eyes widened. She had left her grandparents smooching; they couldn't seem to stop. Oh, well. At least her grandmother wasn't talking about divorcing her grandfather. The way she had when she'd first come for her visit. "They're asking when they'll get their pizza?" Grace stood across from her father, close to the kitchen island cluttered with fixings. The detective wore a disgruntled look acutely etched into his face. He stared down at the first pizza he'd pulled from the oven. The second pie, also baked, but 'underdressed,' was at the ready near the oven. Bubbling, these irresistible pies looked good enough to eat, mouthwatering, their aroma heavenly. But, in Danny's stubborn mind, these pizza pies were grossly inedible.

"Tell them _soon_, Monkey. _Soon_." How soon was anybody's guess. Where was his angelic angel of mercy who'd happily volunteered to run off to the nearest market for the pizzas' finishing touches? Which he'd forgotten to pick up. What a rookie stunt, as though this was his first time making pizza? Definitely not. Preoccupation with their most recent, tragic case was responsible for this revolting slipup. The underage girl who'd located that poor manipulable kid, her easy mark, had fed him her phony sob story, resulting in his death. The cold calculator was Bonnie and Clyde rolled into one. How could one teenage girl be so coldblooded? Danny thought, shivering, reaching for more grated cheese to sprinkle on the savory pies.

Well, little Ms. Sevengali would have plenty of time in prison to reflect on the vileness of her evil ways. If she thought she was so tough, just wait. Women in prison could be a newbie's worst nightmare.

"How soon?" Grace nudged, her tone fluid, giving her father one of her adorably poignant expressions. "I served them the other bottle of wine, but they're hungry, Danno. Really hungry. I even heard Grandpa say Dominos delivers quicker." Grace was no fan of commercial pizza, nor of pizza from a pizzeria. She'd been spoiled since practically birth. Danno was absolutely 'The Best Pizza Maker,' numero uno in the world to hear Grace tell it. And she told everyone so, often.

"Yeah, he would say something brilliant like that," her father mumbled in a gravelly voice. His father, the retired fireman, knew no other way than anything being, 'the quicker the better.' Nodding, biting his tongue lest he say something that would scar his innocent Grace for life, Danny acknowledged a little growly, "Is the Italian bread all gone?" There hadn't been time to make any authentic garlic bread.

"Danno," Grace gently replied, sounding all forms of patient, "we didn't serve them any bread. We don't have that either. Only the pizza. And the wine." She was quick to refresh her father's forgetful memory, "And the cannoli too. But they're for dessert." Before Danny could get another word in, Grace got her bid in, in a flash. "I want both types. The chocolate shell kind and the regular!"

"Yeah, Monkey, I know you want both. I promised. You'll get both. I bought enough to feed half the island and Kamekona too." Assaggio's, on Ala Moana Boulevard, thought a run was being made on their place. This short, stocky boisterous man was a cannoli hoarder. After Danny had paid and gone, the restaurant's manager instructed his staff to remember this pushy guy for future reference. They took Danny's money with something that was supposed to pass for a smile.

Yummy sounds erupted from Grace as she rubbed her hands together, like a miser, yearning for the rich, scrumptious treats. And yes—to die for. Like a warrior, the little waitress for a night insisted, "Danno, we could give Grandpa and Grandma that pizza now." Her index finger extended, she forged on, "And later, when—"

"No can do, Monkey." Placing his hand on his chest, over his heart, Danny overrode, "You do know those two people sitting out there. Right?"

Grace loved her father's tomfoolery when he was being silly like this. She ate it up like the cannoli she couldn't get enough of, but would be told she'd have to limit. Too many cannoli and she'd have a tummy ache as sure as kids in Italy could count to 10 in Italian. "Oh, Danno." She nodded vigorously, laughing at him like the little kid she was slowly, but surely leaving behind. Where did the time go? "Sure I do. I've known them since I was born."

"And you also know that if they don't get what they expect on their pizza, I'll never hear the end of it!" Cocking his head to one side, Danny reiterated, "I don't get this right, they could go on and get that crazy divorce over something as serious as this!"

"No they won't, Danno. They won't get a divorce," Grace adamantly guaranteed. "They're _never_ getting a divorce—know why?"

"Why?" Danny challenged, his eyes all a-twinkle, he, as cocksure as he could make himself, teasing his pint-sized beauty, one of his most favorite pastimes. "C'mon. You tell me."

"Because they love ea—"

"Hi, honeys, I'm home!"

A split second before Grace could express herself as eloquently as her young age allowed, in swept what was always a fresh breath of Hawaiian air. Kono came through the back door, all smiles. As soon as Danny saw her, he was too, surpassing hers perhaps by a smidgen. The twinkles in his eyes upped their wattage by a thousand.

Not missing a beat, he fired-off, "You got?"

Mimicking his cavalier Jersey style, Kono fired back, "Yeah, boss. I got." As though speaking in code, she proudly hailed, "The package."

"Yea! Yippee!" Grace celebrated.

Like daughter, like father, Danny jubilantly pursued, "The kind with peppers and garlic?"

Kono sidled up to the muscular, compact pizza maker and avowed, "I got just what you asked for, _boss_." Winking, she handed her 5-0 teammate the spicy goods. "Pepperoni straight from the market where you usually get it from." Close to Danny's ear, causing his heart to fiercely palpitate, she whispered, "Do I get some?"

Swallowing hard, but keeping his cool, since this certainly was no dream, Danny promised, "As much as you want." He'd made it sound as though he might not exactly be referring to pizza. Following his nervous laugh, he proffered, "All right, all right, all right. Who's stepping up to help me decorate these tempting pies with the _piece de resistance_? What those two starving people in there are shouting their lungs out for?"

Snickering, Kono accented with heavy flippancy, "You never told me you speak French."

Appreciatively unwrapping the pepperoni, Danny retorted, "I haven't told you many things about myself." Bold innuendo peppered the next words to flow from his lips. "Try me…"

Kono, blinked, deciding to play along. "I volunteer." She held out her hands.

Having sliced some of the pepperoni up, Danny shoved some into Kono's waiting hands. "Knock yourself out." Her soft, smooth sun kissed tan hands, he dreamed might one day affectionately stroke him to sleep.

Out in the dining area, Danny's restless parents clamored: "We want pizza! We want pizza!" The louder their voices got, the more vigorously they aired those discouraging words. "**We want pizza**!" Then, it got very quiet until suddenly they boomed their next word in unison. "**NOW**!"

"I'd better get out there and let them know their pizza with pepperoni will be coming out really, really soon," Grace proposed, taking the initiative. Glad to have her grandparents under the same roof, she zipped away from the kitchen island, intent on appeasing the elders of her family.

"You do that, Monkey," Danny concurred, watching Kono go to town with the first of the pizzas about to go back into the oven, which he had already lowered the temperature of once the pizzas had initially baked. Looking after Grace, who, with youthful enthusiasm, went crashing through the kitchen door, Kono chuckled. Danny, rife with inquisitiveness, questioned, "What?"

"More pepperoni please," she merrily requested as she snatched another handful.

Danny quickly followed up, adding several more slices himself. "I'm glad you accepted my invitation. Glad you were free."

They stood very close together, one shoulder slightly higher than the other, their arms touching as they worked, topping the pizzas off with topping. Their pinky fingers touching felt most intimate. "Me too," Kono agreed, giving Danny a look and he nodded, giving her the go-ahead. She popped some pepperoni into her mouth.

"Not too much. You'll spoil your appetite," Danny advised, and with a soft laugh, did the same.

"You got the cannoli?"

"Do I look like a man who would invite insane parents over for an Italian dinner and not have cannoli?" Danny turned into Kono, who realized how little she had begun to breathe, taking shallower breathes. "And would I have an ace detective, the…" Was he going to say what he needed to say, or chicken out? "_Loveliest_ detective in all Hawaii be mad at me for coming up empty?"

"What was I thinking?" Kono exhaled, huffing a deep breath, her voice wavy, noticing just how changed Danny had become, his nearness magnetic. Her feelings for him, the ones she kept buried, burbling to the surface.

Then, in a blink of a gleaming eye, Danny was his waggish, jocund self, impetuously taking the liberty of covering her hand over with his. "Just keep right on plunking down pepperoni. You do thinking so well, day-in, day-out. Whiz-kid. Give thinking a time out tonight. Okay?" He gave her supple, small hand the tiniest of squeezes. His breath caught along with his head swimming. Maybe, just maybe, she might consider giving him another surfing lesson. Oh, with Grace along too, of course. His daughter and Kono, now that was some winning combination, fitting like hand in glove.

Kono, recovering from her momentary freeze, filled Danny's ears with faint giggling. Danny squeezed her hand a little tighter, feeling her pulse between his fingers.

"**Pizza—Now**!"

Even Grace had lent her remonstrative voice to her grandparents' thunderous ultimatum.

"Tough room," Danny muttered. "Takes me back to the old days when we were kids growing up. I come from a very loud family. If you haven't noticed."

"I like what I'm seeing from your family," Kono readily confessed.

"Daniel, this is your father speaking. Are you trying to starve your mother and me?"

"Comin' right up, Pop!" Danny bellowed laughingly as Kono helped him place both pies back into the warm oven and they held hands as the pepperoni-sprinkled pies browned.


End file.
